


Days Past

by nazgularepeopletoo



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lefou is too pure for this world, M/M, Memories, Post-Movie(s), Reflection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 09:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10434720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazgularepeopletoo/pseuds/nazgularepeopletoo
Summary: Lefou keeps a token, to remind him.





	

It had been four years. It had been four years and still he kept it hidden round his neck. Stanley thought he had lost it years ago, that’s what he had been told, but he still kept it. It laid firm against his sternum, reminding him of the past. He didn’t think about it… about _him_ … nearly as often as he used to, but he always seemed to feel more himself with it there. Gaston had been a part of his life for so long that it seemed only natural to keep a part of him still, even after everything.

                He had found it on the grounds of the castle, gleaming feebly in the bright sunlight. It was a medal, received for some act of valour during the last months of the war, probably rescuing a widow or two. Gaston had kept it in his pocket, affixed to the inner lining. He searched, the whole grounds, but couldn’t find the body.

                He had cried for hours, locking himself in his small house. No one could get him to come out for five days, but someone did check on him once a day. When he finally came out, he was a mess; hair matted, shirt wrinkled, and in desperate need of a bath. He had missed most of the general hubbub that surrounded recovered memories but he honestly did not care. There weren’t any memories of the castle in his head.

                That was the first day he had worn the medal. Taking some string from an old vest, he slipped it through the backing and tied it around his neck. Before he stepped outside, he tucked it under his shirt, pressing it close to his chest and opening the door.

                The village had transformed. Not only did it seem brighter, but all the people in it seemed much, much happier. There was a spring to everyone’s step, and no one gave him a mean or rude stare; they just looked at him sadly and left him alone. It was a nice change.

 

                He had brightened since then. He had a sense of purpose, and he had Stanley, who was always at his side when he needed someone there. He taught in the small school for girls that had been set up in Belle’s old farmhouse, Maurice now living in the castle with her and her husband the king. He was happy and content. And the medal hung around his neck every day, reminding him of days past.


End file.
